On Thin Shoulders
by Light8mare
Summary: Demure wasn't the leader type. However, now that the others on his team have faced something that's changed them in a bad way, he finds he's going to need a lot more than patience to deal with this struggle. But thin shoulders weren't made to carry such a burden. Will it all fall out of hand? Or will Demure find the strength to carry them past this?
1. Chapter 1

Nile blinks softly, his pastel green eyes appearing to watch the ground. "Are we there yet?" He asks in a quiet hoarse voice.

Demure almost shakes his head before remembering, then replies, "No, I don't think so. I can't really tell with all the dust in the air though." He squints, debating, before adding, "We may want to look for shelter. The storm's getting worse."

Nile nods soundlessly and allows his sharp-eyed companion to pull him forward in search. His eyes still held level with the ground as if it could stare back, though if it could he wouldn't notice. The bright emerald once contained in his eyes had become a murky green, swathed in fog. They had lost sight, therefore losing purpose, and Nile wasn't one to keep purposeless things.

The still sore-looking scars framing his face were proof of this.

Demure glances back at the blind Egyptian as he ties his scarf over his mouth and nose, his eyes running over the cuts made by an ill, distraught mind. Nile had been so out of it, had become so distressed by this new darkness and the trauma endured at that place that he had tried to cut out his eyes, along with his life.

Even now Nile remained a changed person, scarred inside and out.

"Hey." Said companion murmers in his quiet voice. "I'm Ok Demure." This effectively pulls Demure back to the present.

"I know." Demure replies, a soft smile lifting the sides of his mouth. He'd forgotten how easily Nile felt stareing. He felt the atmospere around people and could distinguish emotions as well as seeing people too. However, Demure can tell even with the scarf that Nile doesn't return the smile, leaving Demure feeling heavy disappointment, as he hadn't seen his friend smile once in the last two years.

OK. But not fine.

The wind picks up, and the sand is buffeting them hard enough to knock away their breath. Nile chokes and stumbles, then quickly squeezes Demure's hand harder. Although he wouldn't admit it, Demure knew Nile was scared of being alone in his personal darkness. If he were to be lost, he'd have no chance, either mentally or physically, of survival. The way he was now ensured that.

Finally Demure manages to make out a cluster of boulders and pulls Nile to them. There was a tiny space between two, large enough to barely wedge themselves in. As it was, they were pressed up together and both could feel the heaving breaths of the other.

The storm lasts about an hour. Lucky. It wasn't as bad nor as long as it could have been, and both Africans were grateful for that. They needed to cover as much ground as possible in order to reach the building. As it was, they were very late.

They pull from the safety of the rocks and continue padding through the hot sand, their feet slipping and sinking under the soft dust.

Demure didn't need to be a mind reader to tell whenever Nile considered their destination. The Egyptian would become anxious, his breath hitching in his throat and his movements stiffer and jerkier. His grip on Demure's hand would fluctuate in strength, sometimes to the points where Demure would either grimace in pain or pause to make sure Nile's hand didn't slip from his fingers. Small, barely noticeable tremors would make him shiver, chills running down his spine despite the intense heat.

Demure was always careful to watch for the signs, ready to comfort or listen, despite that Nile hadn't opened up to him or anyone else at all. What went on at that place was a secret, and probably would remain that way unless either Nile or the ones they were searching for confided in them.

Despite his fears though, Nile continued to plug forward. He was the only one who knew the exact location, along with the basic layout. He was putting aside the trauma he'd expirenced to make sure another didn't face it.

As brave as it was though, Demure found himself continuing to wish for the truth. Nile had changed in that place, and scars don't heal by being ignored and picked at.

-.*

It was too dark to see when they finally stopped to rest. This had been a pattern they'd picked up, sleeping during late hours and midday and walking the rest of the time, in order to avoid getting lost or overheated.

Demure begins pulling food from his backpack, carefully making sure to abide by the ration limits they'd set prejourney. If they weren't careful about their food, they wouldn't have enough to make it back, especially since they planned on two extra companions.

Hopefully. They couldn't be sure that they weren't making this journey in vain unfortunately.

When Nile's portion was handed to him, Demure saw how he clung to it, bringing it against his chest possessively.

_So he's still doing that... _

Nile's odd defensiveness about food was likely stemed from all of lack of it and inability to defend what meager portion he received at that place. He had dropped several pounds and was still lower than healthy even now.

They eat in silence before Demure takes out blankets. As hot as it was during the day, the nights were borderline freezing. Though it might have been smart to sleep close to each other for the sake of warmth, Demure knew not to try. Nile wouldn't have it. More likely he'd squirm away with a snarl.

Demure sighs to himself. It hurt, seeing Nile like this. He had to push it away though, for the sake of the others and Nile himself. He needed to be patient with his traumatized friend, less he become overwhelmed and run off. Nile wasn't exactly prone to logic at the moment, acting on ancient gut instinct to keep himself safe. Even if it meant endangering his life.

After they picked up the other two, Demure would probably be tiptoeing over eggshells for a while. After all, if Kyoya and Benkei were difficult before, what would they be like now that they've faced what Nile has?


	2. Chapter 2

"How much further?"

Demure clenches his teeth together to avoid gasping in pain. Nile's fingers were just too _tight! _

"J-just a bit longer. You wrote 250 here right?"

"Yes."

It was just a bit eerie watching Nile speak with his sightless eyes wide and watching nothing, never focusing.

Demure turns back to the note and rereads the messy scrawling. "Yeah. Less than a mile till we see it..." _As long as these directions are right..._

Demure knew Nile had an exceptional memory, but there were limits to human capabilities. Whether it was a matter of time, distance, or just how twisted up his mind was, it was all too likely he had made a mistake.

"I'm not wrong." Nile adds as if reading his mind.

Demure hesitates before asking, "how can you be sure?"

"Because I wrote it. Over and over. It hurt... A lot..." Nile's scarred fingers twitch at the memory and Demure gets a bad feeling about _how _he wrote it. "I rewrote it until I could do it without looking. Luckily."

Demure just gives a soft, "Alright." and doesn't ask anymore.

Apparently, the derangement of his mind had proved in their favor. Had he not committed it so firmly to memory the others may have had to wait longer.

However, that doesn't change that Nile's trembling and suddenly rougher breathing sends concern through Demure. If just talking about it made things this bad, what would happen when they finally made it to their destination?

"I'm fine," Nile murmers insistently, but it sounds more for himself than for his companion.

It only takes about thirty minutes before a large structure appears in sight. Two stories high, made of thick, white stone, and about the length of a football field. An electic fence encircled it and there were no windows to speak of. Not much else it could be besides what they were looking for.

When Demure stops, Nile does as well, his brows furrowing nervously.

"Are we here?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah." Demure gives Nile's hand a light squeeze when he feels Nile's fingers go slack. "Do you want to stay ou-"

"No."

Demure blinks. He had hoped to convince Nile to stay out here, we from both the dangers of the building and his own memories.

The Egyptian stares through him, as if studying his mind, before adding, "you don't know the layout. I do."

"Oh." Demure had forgotten about that part in his concern. "Right. Of course."

Nile, already dismissing the fault, swivels his head towards the building and asks, "so how do we get in?"

Ryo Hagane, head of the WBBA, had entrusted them with the task to retrieve both captives somehow. He couldn't offer help, there were rumors of traitors in the organization that halted his ability to trust another for this. He couldn't give advice, the situation was too uncertain. All he had done was send them to the middle of the desert and put his faith in the hands of an under confident African and a blind, questionably sane Egyptian.

Clearly, nothing could possibly go wrong with that.

Demure sighs in annoyance at the new complication with no way to solve it. They were here, so what? If they tried forcing their way in they'd be caught. If they tried to sneak in... Well how?

"Do you hear that?" Nile's question brings him from his focus.

"Huh?"

"It's Arabic."

Demure strains his ears and realizes he can hear voices, although he can't make out any words. "Which dialect?" He asks.

"... Might be Sudanese... Oh, That one sounded Egyptian." Nile squints in the effort before nodding. "Yes. An Egyptian."

"Alright, but how does that help?" Demure asks. He realizes that the guards will see them if they stay as they are in the open, so he tugs Nile down behind a sand dune.

"Well... If they have Egyptians, I would blend in. You too, as one of the others. We just need to get past the fence and disguise ourselves."

"That's brilliant Nile." Another smile kinks the corners of Demure's mouth. Despite all he'd been through, Nile still had the same cunning, strategic mind that had almost won them the championship. If it hadn't been for that one guy, that silver haired one, it would have been possible.

The memory of that unnatural darkness brought back a prickle of fear. It had been dangerous and _evil. Why _Gangan Galaxy had him on their team was a mystery to him, though based on observing him before it started and Kyoya's reaction to the fight, it wasn't normal.

Demure pushes those thoughts away. He needed to focus.

How would they get past that fence and the guards? It needed to be reasonably fast so they wouldn't get caught in the middle of it, while still maintaining subtlety. Digging under was a no-go, climbing was a definite no, trying to stack up stones was a no (not enough time or resources there), so what? There was a gate... Maybe they could wait until it was opened for a shipment of food or whatever... No. It'd take too long. They needed to get Kyoya and Benkei out as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he turns back to Nile. "How did you get out?"

He can tell immediantly that its a bad question by how stiff Nile goes.

"W... What?" His tone's become guarded. Very bad question. Demure couldn't afford to have Nile lock up on him here.

"Ah, never mind! Er..." Demure gazes at the fence again, hoping for some answer to their problem. In his desperate search for some kind of idea, his mind helpfully tries to pull up heavily fictional solutions. If only they were taller... Like _really _tall... Though that kind of height was a bit impos-

Wait... Height... His mind instant connected the word to an idle conversation with Team Wildfang. Kyoya had absently remarked about how many of his taller opponents had been cocky, mentioning Benkei as an example. Nile had wondered if Demure or Benkei was taller, just to prove Kyoya's uncaring generalization wrong, and they had found Benkei to be the tallest. After that, they just ended up comparing heights. Demure was second, then Kyoya, leaving Nile last as shortest.

It had been a pointless activity to pass the time, but as irrelevant as the thought seemed, he could feel he was onto something.

Height... Demure was second tallest... Right now he was probably taller than the halfway mark up the fence. Nile may have been the shortest but... He pauses and glances at Nile, trying to affirm whether it'd work. If Nile was on his shoulders, would they be higher than the fence? Maybe. Then Nile could jump over and... Where was the shut off for the fence? Was it in that panel on the back of the building? He could switch it off and Demure could climb over.

... Yes. This seemed possible.

Demure quickly turns back to Nile and explains his idea. He begins to feel a bit excited. He had just done something. Figured it out. He wasn't totally incapable, right? He was useful!

That brief joy is shot down by Nile commenting, "what about the guards? I can still hear them"

Oh. Demure wrestles back feeling crestfallen. Of course. They had the building surrounded. No doubt they'd be seen. With an internal groan, he focuses again on how to draw them away.

"There are dogs right? I can hear dogs," Nile questions.

"Ye... Yeah. I can see them. A few guards have them on leashes," Demure replies, squinting to make things out through the dusty air, chain link fence, and distance.

"If we alerted the dogs to something, the other guards would hear and run over to help investigate."

Demure grinno That was perfect. The only question was what? "We could use food. That would draw them, right?"

"Maybe. But they're more likely to alert at the smell of an invader. It's probably how they've been trained."

Demure nods slowly. "So... We'll use-"

"Blood."

Demure can't help feeling both startled and slightly dishearted at the single word. He'd gotten Nile to talk so much more than he usually did nowadays, which had been encouraging. But that word not only meant injury to one of them, but it was also tied to Nile's darkened mindset in the suffering he'd endured.

He forced himself to shake it off. It was necessary. They needed to focus on this right now, not Nile's current mental state.

Before he realizes it, Nile's pulled out a can lid and is busy fingering it for sharp edges.

"Ni-!"

_Slice._ Demure looks away from Nile's bleeding arm, trying to suppress the urge to curse at both Nile and himself. Stupid. Self-harm was _not _a good thing for Nile's unbalanced state right now, no matter how necessary. It should have been himself. He should have stopped Nile, should have seen it _before _he sliced himself open.

Nothing he could do now. Instead, he helps Nile soak a strip of fabric in the crimson. When the strip's removed, Demure replaces it with another for medical reasons rather than strategic, tying it tightly over the wound.

Nile just snorts disdainfully at it and ties the other piece over a stone, then hands it to Demure. With a deep breath, Demure stands and throws as hard as he can, letting it fly over the fence to where they need it.

Immediantly a chorus of frantic barking fills the air and they wait a moment for the shouting guards to head away from the back before dashing to the fence.

"Alright, climb u-"

"Don't." Demure flinches when long fingers dig into his shoulders and force him to face Nile. Those murky greens reflected something he rarely saw in his friend. "Don't you dare touch it. Don't you dare touch the metal." The demanding tone didn't distract from what Demure realized.

Nile was scared. His fingers were shaking. His face twitched minimally in the effort to reign the expression off his face and instead portrayed only intense commanding.

Why hadn't Demure noticed the discomfort in his shoulders when he told him his idea? Why hadn't he noticed the hesitating movement, as if Nile wanted to stall away from doing this?

"I won't Nile. I promise," he hears himself answer. Nile continues to pause for a moment before backing off. He clampers onto Demure's thin back obediently and pulls himself up onto his shoulders.

Why hadn't he realized before?

Demure backs up a few paces before running, giving Nile the momentum he needed, and the Egyptian springs over the barbed tops like a cat.

Demure hurriedly digs in his heels to avoid planting his face in the electrified wire, scrambling to slow down and halting a few inches away from it. When Nile collapses into the sand on the other side, he doesn't pause, but instead climbs to his feet and runs to the wall of the building. He gropes blindly for the small square panel mentioned to him and frantically hits at the buttons inside, hoping to hit the right one.

Shockingly, he's successful, and with a low hum the fence shuts off.

With no time to waste, Demure rushes to climb up, throwing a blanket he'd gotten out earlier over the dangerous-looking top to avoid catching himself. He throws himself down and darts over to where Nile has crouched down by the wall.

He's covering his face. Demure slows to a stop beside him and wraps his arm over his shoulder, holding tightly to the other. "It's alright Nile, its fine. I didn't touch the metal. We're both fine," he murmers hastily, hoping to comfort the other.

Nile had done this before. _This_ was how he had escaped this nightmarish place.

Only... His partner in the jump hadn't been so lucky.

One final horror to bestow on its captive. One final blow from this horrible building.

Nile was breathing too fast. His breaths were on the verge of sobs, ready to propel him into a meltdown. His hands were pressed tightly against his skin and refused to move at Demure's coaxing.

Commotion nearby alerts Demure of their sudden lack of time. He pulls Nile to his feet and guides him into a side door.

The inside of this part was as, if not more, brightly white as the outside. Demure pushes Nile forward over the tile and veers into the first room they come to.

Its a bathroom. They move into one of the shower stalls and Demure sets Nile down before turning and locking the door. When he turns back, Nile's already scooted back against the wall and pulled his knees in. He's still covering his face. His breathing isn't as panicked now though.

"Are you alright?" Demure asks softly. His voice seems loud, ringing in the silence.

Nile shakes his head very slightly, his body too taut to move well. Demure can tell he doesn't want to be touched, so he kneels down across from him.

They sit in the quiet, broken only by Nile's rough panting, until Nile's able to calm himself enough. His fingers begin by curling in and, after a moment, he starts to rubs his tear-damp face dry. The change seems to set off a chain, because a little while later his knees lower away from his chest and his breathing has almost returned to normal.

Feeling guilty for Nile's release of emotion, Demure starts, "I'm sorry Nile, I should have kno-"

"Don't."

Demure can't even see his mouth move, since his head is lowered and his hands are still scrubbing at his eyes.

Its a very long, painfully silent while later when Nile's voice surfaces again.

"I thought you had hit it too." He admits in a whispery tone. "I thought... So I just hit the button and waited. Even though you got over, I could still hear the screaming."

He shifts. "I was sure I was going to die right there. That you were dead and the guards would get me, and then... and then..."

And then he'd have to face that living death all over again. If he'd been cracked irreparably the first time, he'd have broken and truly died inside the second time. It wouldn't have mattered if the WBBA had sorted things out and he'd still be physically alive by then. Nile would be an empty shell, never to truly escape his prison.

It was a depressing thought. No wonder he'd become so upset.

"What happened?" Demure asks after a pause.

Nile is silent for a moment before finally reopening his mouth.

"We were desperate..."

* * *

***Gasp*! Over 2,000 words? I must be _mad!_**

**So here we have a bit of trauma. I was originally going to go with the clique "we'll just run in with the delivery truck" move, but it was too coincidental for my liking. I might still use it for an escape though, if I'm lazy. **

**Review. It made my heart dance with joy when I saw your glorious comments. It also persuaded me to update. See the connection there?**


	3. Chapter 3

"It's tomorrow."

His heart drops out of him at that statement. "What... What time?" He whispers.

The lanky German boy leans his head back against the white stone. With a painful sigh, he rubs his jaw and tries to click it back in place. No such luck. It would always be broken. Even when it healed, it'd remain crooked. "Probably the morning."

The Contest was back. 145 had been drawn to play. He didn't have a choice, even if he was blind now. Even if he was a whole thirty pounds skinnier than most of the other players. He had no choice unless he let them shoot him.

"Do you remember your name yet?" 462, or Erich as he had told 145, spoke slowly to avoid hurting his messed up jaw. It had been messed up for a long time now.

That was fine. 145 could feel tight lines in his brain. They were where his talking ability was. It meant he couldn't always speak, and when he did, he had to be careful or the lines would snap and hurt. He only talked to Erich.

He shakes his head, and he can hear Erich sigh again. "So should we keep calling you Horus?"

145 didn't know. He wasn't Horus on the inside. Erich had just called him that because "_you can't die in this place without a name. You can't let them take that from you! Even if its not your real name it'll help keep you a person." _And "_It's a deity from ancient Egypt right? You're Egyptian, right? Here, see? You can't die when you're named after a deity. They'll protect you."_

145 didn't think Horus would protect him. Or, if he was willing to save someone, it should be Erich. Because Erich was still a person. Because Erich still had his name and could talk without strings in the way, it was just his jaw that needed to be fixed and he'd be perfect again.

"Come on." Erich grabs his hand and pulls him away. When he can hear the buzz of mumbled voices and the Arabic shouting, and feel the heavy breaths and warm bodies around him, he can tell they've gone back to the lines. "Night?" He murmers. Erich probably couldn't hear him, but he knew the question anyways. He answers yes with two quick squeezes of 145's hand.

Back to the quarters. He hated it there. It was nightmares and violence and rejection. It was packed together and tight. A box. Large box of hate and depression. It was the room his group had to sleep.

His first night here was bad. They had just taken all the 100's out of solitary a night ago and were shoving them into the newer group. It was to scare them and break the 400's. It scared and broke the 100's even more. Thirty of them committed suicide in three days.

145 had been lost and cold, inside and out. He'd stumbled over people trying to settle, searching blindly for any room. Whenever he found somewhere, the others would shove him away. Desperate and anxious and overwhelmed, tears had streamed down his face as he searched. If he went near a gang they'd strangle him in his sleep. If he went somewhere too crowded, he might suffocate or break one of his fragile, bony limbs.

He hadn't been able to keep from whimpering, hadn't avoided crying and nearly had a meltdown. He hadn't wanted to be alive, so why did he have to do this? Why did he have to be thrust into a crowd after months of being alone? It was too much, and he'd started breaking.

Then a hand caught him and dragged him by the wall. "Cllm! Cllm!" They'd cried when he'd struggled. They sounded odd. Did they mean 'calm'?

When he stopped fighting, the other had splayed out his palm. A finger had drawn letters there.

"_I won't hurt you."_

145 had calmed down. Newbies. A few good Samaritans had been mixed in the batch. Lucky.

"_Can't speak. Broken jaw from guard."_

145 had lightly, hesitantly, touched the boy's face. His jaw was indeed broken.

"_You're blind?" _145 had nodded.

_"Stick by me. We'll have a better chance."_

Erich shook his shoulder.

145 looks up in his direction.

"Flashback?" Erich asks. 145 just shrugs.

Erich had gotten better at speaking since then. His jaw wasn't as bad now. 145 had gotten a bit better too. Less lines. Less hurting.

He still didn't like the sleeping quarters.

They both took their spots near the wall and layed down.

"About how high do you think the wall is?" Erich had asked. "I know it's taller than you and me... But what about both of us?"

145 shrugs. He didn't know.

-.*

Erich had explained the plan in the morning, before most people were up and the guards had come back.

It was simple. As the guards led them out, 145 would climb up on Erich's back. Erich would run, trying to avoid bullets, and he'd tell 145 to jump at the right time.

In the chaos, Erich might be able to get back into the crowd without being caught.

Then 145 would get help.

-.*

Before 145 had climbed on and they set the plan in motion, Erich had been very quiet. Then suddenly 145 was wrapped in a hug.

"See you," Erich had said.

And then the plan was on.

The bullets had all missed. 145 had listened as the wizzed by.

The guards had not grabbed them. They were all too far.

They were running very fast. Erich had yelled, "jump!"

145 had leapt as high as he could.

He felt inches from the barbs on top.

He had fallen. He'd tumbled across the ground.

And he had heard the heart-stopping noise.

145 smelt burning flesh.

145 had heard the screaming.

Inhuman. Animalistic. Dying.

It gripped him physically. He couldn't move.

Frozen. Frozen.

_"Erich! " _he'd mouthed. His throat was stuck. He couldn't scream.

That was ok. Erich was screaming enough for both of them.

And then it was silent.

* * *

"The guards came... I heard. They came and I ran. I ran and ran. But I still heard them dragging him away. Because he was dead. H-he... He was dead. And I wasn't."

Nile's eyes were shadowed and haunted.

He shut them tightly. Those bandaged fingers clung to himself as if to keep himself from falling apart. He had begun rocking back and forth not even halfway through the story.

Despite not having all the details, Demure knew pushing Nile any more would break him. As he was, he could lock down at any second.

So instead they sit in silence. It only takes about fifteen minutes for Nile to exhaust himself into unconsciousness. Demure is too parinoid about being found to do the same, so he sits on watch.

_In what horrid states,_ he can't help wondering, _will Kyoya and Benkei be in?_

* * *

**Sorry if this writing isn't up to my usual par. I had to portray how screwy Nile's brain was in the place. Plus I wrote it all in a few hours rather than spending a week glancing over it, and I have finals going on right now. Seriously. I'm right about to take my Biology one.**

**I know I didn't explain a lot, but I figured Nile wasn't up to telling us everything yet. **

**Review! Review! Twas a mere new comment that pushed me into action.**


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